


The Pieces of Our Hearts

by Miss_uk_writer



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 23:56:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 18,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11474325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_uk_writer/pseuds/Miss_uk_writer
Summary: Bridget Westfall had stuffed up her one chance at love and it has haunted her ever since. One day, years after saying goodbye to the love of here life, they meet on a chance encounter. Can they fix what they once had, or is it too late? AU.





	1. Chapter 1

Oh, and, babe, I'm fist-fighting with fire just to get close to you.  
Can we burn something, babe? And I'll run for miles just to get a taste  
Must be love on the brain,  
That's got me feeling this way.  
It beats me black and blue but it fucks me so good and I can't get enough,  
Must be love on the brain.  
And it keeps cursing my name, No matter what I do  
I'm no good without you and I can't get enough,  
Must be love on the brain

Love on the Brain - Rihanna

Bridget Westfall welcomed the burning in her throat from the straight vodka she just downed in one hit. Usually a wine drinker, she needed something a little stronger today. A long week at work and an upcoming anniversary had left her feeling burned out and frankly, a little vulnerable. She ordered another, on the rocks, and took another swig, wincing slightly. The bar she was in was filling up quickly, 4pm on a Friday afternoon to thank for that. An commercial indie hit played in the background, sure to be turned up when it was peak drinking time. She hoped she would not bump into one of her students; the last thing she wanted was to appear mildly inebriated in front of one of them. Since leaving Wentworth Prison almost 3 years ago, Bridget had began lecturing in forensic psychology. She enjoyed it and it paid well, but it was not her passion. Her passion was practicing psychology, getting into the minds of the women she helped and making a difference, but she had left that all behind 3 years ago. She had also left behind her heart.

Next week would be 3 years since she made the choice to walk away from Wentworth and each anniversary dredged up unwelcome memories. This was part of the reason she was sitting here, feeling sorry for herself and not wanting to go home to an empty house. Drinking away some of the pain was her plan tonight, for she would no doubt relive each moment in her head. She could remember every single word of the last conversation she had with the person she had done it all for, and that was the hardest thing to remember. She sighed, and wondered what she must look like right now to the outside world - lonely 40-something year old woman, drinking alone at a bar on a Friday. She decided to leave after one more drink. She felt tipsy, and suddenly wanted to curl up in bed and relive some of the good memories, the ones which bought both tears and smiles.

But then she heard it. She heard the laugh that stole her heart and instantly knew who it belonged to. That vivacious, addictive, intoxicating laugh. She turned her head and there she was. All 5 foot 9 of her, raven haired and emerald eyed, Franky Doyle. Bridget stared, unable to move as if a paralysis had taken over her body. Franky was straddling a chair, her arms folded over the back as she laughed at another woman. They looked close, possibly even a couple. She reached over and picked up a bottle of beer, her neck arching back and eyes closing as she drank. The image was both stimulating and heart wrenching. Bridget continued to watch, her heart racing. She was drawn to the vast array of tattoos on both arms, more added since Bridget last saw her. The white short sleeve tee-shirt suddenly looked appetising, and Bridget found herself wondering how Franky looked underneath it. And then it happened. Franky dropped something on the floor, picked it up, and their eyes met.

"Fuck!" Bridget muttered and tore her gaze away, quickly gathering her belongings together to make a swift exit. She tried to stash her purse and phone into her oversized handbag but her hands were shaking and she dropped everything, the contents of her bag spilling onto the sticky floor.

"Shit!" Bridget tried with haste to put everything back in her bag. She succeeded, and tried to make a haste exit. But she was too late.

"Gidget?"


	2. Chapter 2

If you leave this time I fear that you'll be gone for good  
So I hold on like leaves and fall to what is left  
Said her father left her young and he said he'll be back  
With that same tone that you just said you'll stay forever with

Chris Brown - Autumn Leaves

"Gidget?"

Franky stared at the blonde woman, her mouth suddenly dry. She could not believe it was really her. They both stood motionless for a few seconds, but it seemed much, much longer. Neither woman blinked, their eyes drinking in each other. Franky didn't know whether to laugh or cry; there stood the woman that gave her hope but left her with nothing but a broken promise. She was used to those she loved walking out of her life; her father, then Bridget. But Franky had allowed herself to feel something and Bridget had crushed that, intentional or not. Franky broke the spell first.

"It really is you, Gidge."

Bridget's heart contracted at the way Franky looked at her, that genuine smile reserved for few. Franky called her her nickname. It was a name full of meaning, only Franky had called her that. She was taken back to Wentworth, just after she had saved Franky's parole hearing.

"Thanks Gidget!" The sparkle in Franky's eye made it impossible for Bridget to correct her and mean it, so she smiled instead.

"Bridget...!"

"I prefer Gidget!" Franky winked and stuck out her tongue. Bridget shook her head, smiling, and turned on her heels, sensing trouble was looming.

She couldn't decide whether to grab Franky and never let her go, or run in the opposite direction. She chose the latter. Franky's proximity was almost overwhelming. Staying and speaking to her would mean having her heart ripped out, again, and she feared the pain may just end her.

"I'm sorry Franky, I need to go." Bridget hurriedly made for the exit

"Gidge, wait!" Franky said. She followed her and softly grabbed her arm, willing her to not walk out again. "I just wanted to see how you were. It's been a while." Franky stared at her, her blue eyes wide with wonder. She needed to hold it together, but Bridget Westfall knew how to unravel her. "How are you?"

Bridget swallowed. "Things are good Franky," she began, a small smile on her face. "I've been lecturing at the local university, keeping busy, you know how it is." She kept to the small talk. "How long have you been out?"

"Just over a year," Franky replied. "I stuffed my parole, did an extra 6 months but I walked out of that shitheap and never looked back. I finished my legal studies and i'm working with a legal aid company, helping those who need it. Like I did once I guess." She shrugged and left it as that, not willing to elaborate. There was nothing else to say about her life; she wouldn't tell Bridget how her life fell to pieces after she left, how she stuffed up her parole and how she was even more guarded now than ever before.

"You look happy," Bridget smiled, hoped she was. Happier than her anyway.

"You know, just getting on with life." Franky paused, not knowing whether to open her mouth and cross the line, to see Bridget wince. "I've got a job, a new girl, could be worse." Franky instantly regretted the words as soon as they came out of her mouth. She saw Bridget's mouth twitch.

"I'm glad it's all worked out for you, Franky, I really am." Bridget tucked a lock of blonde hair behind her right ear and Franky's heart sunk, wishing she could take those words back. "I best get going, you look after yourself Franky. It was great to see you."

"Gidge, please. Wait." Their eyes locked again and Franky was transported back to the first time they realised that they felt something for each other. She sprawled through her bag for a pen and a scrap of paper but failed. She pulled out her eye liner instead, the one which painted her trademark kohl-rimmed green eyes. She scrawled her number down on the back of a clothing receipt and tucked the paper into Bridget's jacket pocket. "Call me yeah? Just promise you'll call me."

Franky turned on her heels, and went back into the bar. Bridget stood on the pavement, her eyes tearing over. Get a grip, woman, she told herself. She took the paper out of her pocket, folded it up and tucked it into her purse, already knowing full well she would not throw it into the bin.

Franky sat back down at the table which her and Della, her new girlfriend, were sat at.

"Long toilet break babe," Della said, drinking her rum and coke. "Have anything to do with that hot blonde I saw you chase after?"

"Nah, she was just an old friend, from my prison days," Franky lied. "Thought I would say hi but she had to rush off."

Franky downed the rest of her beer in one, not listening to anything Della was saying. She thought of the blonde haired woman who'd broken her heart, and couldn't quite decide whether she hated her or loved her. But people only hated those that they loved, right?


	3. Chapter 3

One of these days maybe your magic won't affect me  
And your kiss won't make me weak.  
But no one in this world knows me the way you know me  
So you'll probably always have a spell on me...

Hate That I Love You - Ne-yo ft. Rihanna

It had taken Bridget almost 3 days to muster up the courage to dial Franky's number, but tonight, she would finally do it. She agonised for days over what she would say, and how she would say it, but decided it was best to let Franky hold the reins and take it her way. After all, she was sure the opinionated brunette would have a lot more to say. Bridget's advice as a psychologist was always speak from the heart, but how could she follow her own advice in this instance? She couldn't pick up the phone and simply say "Hey Franky, I know I messed up baby, but I love you and let's go back to where we left off, eh?" She had to guard her heart, as well at Franky's. She decided to keep to small talk, and let Franky dictate the conversation.

Her heart pounded as she dialled the numbers, smiling as she recalled Franky scrawling number on a napkin with her eyeliner. Bridget took a breath and hit 'dial'; the phone rang.

"Hello?" Franky's voice was upbeat and she could hear music in the background, perhaps a radio or the TV.

"Hey, Franky, it's Bridget," the blonde lady said, sitting upright on the edge of her bed. "Sorry its taken me a little while to call, i've been busy, work and all that." She hoped Franky believed her lies.

"S'all good Gidget." The music disappeared from the background, Franky turning down the radio. She was about to start cooking, a meal for herself and her partner, Della, a sort of 'i'm distracted and fucking confused about everything right now but let's try and forget about it' kind of meal. She had suddenly lost her appetite instead. "Good seeing ya the other day, still looking as hot as ever!"

Bridget laughed, and could picture the exact look on Franky's face right now; a small, lop-sided cheeky smile, her tongue poking out and her green eyes shining as they turned up at the corners when she was happy. Franky fought the urge to tell Bridget she missed her laugh; it was Franky's favourite sound, and loved the shine in Bridget's eyes when she was laughing. But she hadn't heard that sound in almost 3 years and the nostalgia made her feel uneasy.

"So how ya been Gidge? How's life treating you?"

Bridget swallowed. How would she answer? 'My life has been tinged with regret, I've pictured your face each night before bed and cried a thousand tears for you'. No.

"Can't complain," she began. "I'm working at the university, its interesting, pays the bills, the usual."

"Giving out the advice to save the world," Franky began. "I wonder, how many of your students have you given false hope to then cut the rope when it mattered?" Franky knew she sounded bitter and slightly juvenile, but it still hurt, even to this day. She regretted her words, but she wanted Bridget to see that she hadn't forgotten that day; it was clear in her mind and she often replayed the memory in her head, night after night.

"Franky, that's not fair," Bridget began. "You know why I did what I did, why I had to!"

"Still fucking hurt me." There. She'd said those words out loud to her. Bridget sighed, she could hear the pain in Franky's voice. As cruel as the thought was, she knew that this meant Franky was not over what happened, and that there may be the slightest chance she would hear Bridget out once and for all, and try and see her as a good person, with her best interests at heart.

"Can we meet sometime? When it's good for you? I think we need to clear the air and discuss everything."

Franky scoffed. "Clear the air? I think you already cleared yours 3 years ago. But yeah, i'll meet ya. I'll let you know when. Gotta go Gidge, speak soon."

She hung up before Bridget had a chance to say bye. The ball was in her court now. Bridget didn't want to prod and poke her, so she decided she would wait for Franky to get back in contact, no matter how long it took. She walked away from this wonderful, beautiful woman 3 years ago; this time she would put up more of a fight and show her that she was all she wanted.

Franky yelled out lout before punching the wall of her kitchen.

"Aghhh!" She screamed, the frustration getting to her. She san down onto the kitchen floor and began to cry. She hated Bridget for what she had put her through, but she also loved her too. After her release from prison she got her head down and tried to make a life for herself. She thought about the beautiful psychologist every single day, but the fact that she wasn't there made it a little easier to get on with her everyday life. She tried to look her up one day, but of course she was ex-directory.

"What are you doing to me Gidget?" She asked herself, mopping up her tears and trying to pull herself together. Della would be here in an hour and she had to fix a meal and get through the evening like everything was ok, like her heart wasn't being torn open again.


	4. Chapter 4

I really thought you were the one, the only one  
I guess that I was wrong.  
And you turned out you wasn't it If everything I thought so  
But what do you do after love?  
What can you say when it's said and done?  
Cause you can't hide a heart break  
And you can't stop these tears from falling down  
So what do you do?

After love, it hurts so bad.

After Love - P. Diddy ft Keri Hilson

3 Year Ago

Franky Sat in her unit, eagerly waiting for an officer to escort her to her counselling session with Bridget. The dynamic had changed over the last few sessions and Franky knew Bridget noticed it as much as she had. The touch of her fingers on hers, the lingering glances, the fact that she could finally trust someone in her life. Franky needed Bridget, and quite frankly, Bridget needed her too. Of course, Franky knew they were playing with fire but she could pretend to the outside world that nothing was happening, she just had to wait until she made her parole. After that, the world was their's.

"Doyle", she heard Mr Jackson call from the edge of her compound. "Time for your session with Ms Westfall."

"Coming Mr J." Franky got up, butterflies in her stomach like an excited teenager. But she was a 29 year old woman, happy for the first time in her adult life. Bridget had given her a gift that no one had ever done before - hope.

"Is that lipgloss Doyle?" My Jackson raised his eyebrows at Franky, used to her more rugged, 'don't fuck with me' image.

"Booms and Maxi were messing around with me," she quickly lied. She was not about to admit she wanted to make herself appear more attractive to the beautiful blonde she admired. Little did she know, Bridget desired her just as she was, gloss or no gloss. "Why, you want a kiss Mr J?!" She puckered up to Will, feining kissing sounds as he escorted her to Bridget's office.

"Doyle for you, Mr Westfall," he said, leading Franky in.

"Thank you, Mr Jackson," she replied. "Take a seat Franky."

As soon as the door was closed and Will was out of earshot, Franky reached for Bridget's hand.

"I missed ya," Franky said gently, no longer putting up her tough girl bravado with her. Bridget's fingers instinctively stroked the top of Franky's hand before she pulled away, unable to look the brunette in the face. This was going to hurt, for the both of them. "You alright Gidge?"

"Franky, there's something I need to tell you," she began. She sat down opposite her patient-turned-well, she didn't even know right now, and began to speak.

"There is going to be a new psychologist starting here in 2 weeks time and..."

"What you saying Gidget?" Franky sat up straight in the plush chair, her green eyes holding Bridget's gaze.

Bridget swallowed and looked Franky square in the eyes. "I'm leaving Wentworth. At the end of this week." Today was Wednesday.

"What you mean your leaving Wentworth? Your job? What's happened?"

The psychologist inhaled deeply and looked at the floor. "I'm leaving, Franky. I can't stay, not now. This...us, it's not right. There are rumors flying about already, and all it takes is for one person to see a touch of our hands, or the way we look at each other and that's it. I lose the licence to practice and you lose your parole."

"That's bullshit and you know it!" Franky shouted. "No one has any proof, and besides, nothing has happened. We haven't fucked each other, haven't even kissed or anything. Rumors will always exist in this place. You should know that."

God, this was hard, Bridget thought. All she wanted to do was to take that beautiful face of hers in her hands, stare her in those big green eyes and tell her everything was going to be ok. But she had to do the right thing by Franky. Her parole meant the world to her, and if it went tits up because of Bridget's lack of professionalism, she would never forgive herself. Often an advocate of the saying 'you have to be cruel to be kind', she knew she was doing the right thing, but damn! It fucking cut like a knife. Franky stood up and looked Bridget in the eyes.

"Gidget, you can't just walk away from here. The women need you, I need you. Nothing needs to happen, we will stay as inmate and therapist, but please, you can't leave me in here!"

"Franky, you need to..."

"You are the only person in my entire life I trust. Do you know what it took for me to open up to you? You peeled back my layers and saw me at my most vulnerable. You helped me trust, you gave me hope." Tears spilled down Franky's face, and Bridget had to fight the instinct to reach out and wipe them away. "Look at me Gidge, look at me. I love you, ok? There, i've said it. I fucking love you. For the first time in my life I trust and love someone and this is what happens? Fuck, no wonder Bea tried to kill Harry if this is how it fucking feels."

"Oh Franky, I love you too," Bridget said, her voice breaking. "This is why i'm doing this. Can't you see? I'm not going forever. You'll be out soon, i'll be there. But I can't stay here and risk it. I can't control my feelings for you but I can try and control how I conduct myself."

"No Gidge, fuck you. You're giving up on me already at the first sign of trouble. What hope have we got if your throwing in the towel already?" She wiped her eyes, a smudge of black and grey. Bridget walked up to her, tenderly placing a hand on the side of Franky's face. She expected Franky to recoil but to her surprise she didn't move an inch, instead closing her eyes and breathing in the blue-eyed lady's gentle touch. She closed her eyes, tears cascading down her face, but didn't move.

"It's a few months, Franky, i'll find you and then we'll go from there."

Franky pulled away from Bridget. "I don't think you heard me. I'm not interested if you're so quick to give up on us."

"Franky, please," Bridget pleaded, the desperation in her voice.

"No!" She yelled. "You don't get to come in here, throw me a lifeline then drag it away! We're done Gidge, whatever the fuck this was. It's done."

She banged on the door of the psychologists's office, indicating to a guard she was done.

"Good luck Gidget," she said, trying to keep her composure, but with the saddest eyes Bridget had ever seen. Linda Miles escorted her back to her unit and Bridget doubled over in her chair, sobbing.

Friday came, and Vera and Joan were walking Bridget out of the prison, passing the yard where some of the inmates were engaged in recreational time. She clutched her box of possessions close to her chest, and desperately scanned the yard, trying to seek out the beautiful brunette she was leaving behind. But Franky wasn't there. She was in her cell, door closed, obliterating it. She ripped the posters off the wall and hurled the books off the shelf, all while she was roaring with anger and hurt. She eventually sank into her bed, lay there in the foetal position and cried her heart out.

"Looking for someone, Ms Westfall?" Joan Ferguson had asked her, knowing all too well who she was looking for. A cunning but clever woman, it didn't take her long to sniff out the emotions held by the women.

"Just wanted to wish Franky luck with her parole," Bridget smiled, keeping her calm.

As she carried on walking to the gates of the prison, she gave Vera a small hug, and barely made it to her car before the tears came. She knew she would never see Franky Doyle again.


	5. Chapter 5

And if I could just trade her in, I would  
Cause nobody compares to you, no, yeah  
I think I better let her go cause I can't leave you alone  
Every day that I'm with her, all I want is you  
I wanna leave but I'm afraid that you don't even feel the same  
And now I realise, that she ain't you, no she ain't you

She Aint You - Chris Brown

The 5 taps on the front door alerted Franky to the fact her girlfriend had arrived. Della had always knocked 5 times; it was a signal to let Franky know that it was her.

"Coming, coming," Franky called out, turning the oven off. The smell of home made salmon en croute wafted through her small apartment and she wiped her hands on the first tea towel she could find before padding down the hallway to open the door. Franky had often fantasied about Bridget being at the door; it was her favourite fantasy, one which drove her wild and also made her sob. There would be a small knock on the door, and Bridget would be standing there, her face full of wonder and awe. Franky would invite her in, they would fight and cry and scream at each other, then they would reunite and make love. Franky would touch herself and imagine this scenario over and over in her head, but once she reached her climax the tears would always come and her heart would ache.

"Hey gorge," Della announced, grabbing Franky by the neck and pulling her towards her, kissing her lightly on the mouth. "Smells good in here. I've got a bottle." She flounced into Franky's kitchen, helped herself to a glass and poured a generous helping of prosecco into it. "You had a good day babe?"

"Mmm hmm," Franky replied, hoping Della wouldn't pry. She wasn't in the mood for talking about herself tonight. "What about you Dells, work ok was it?"

Della swallowed the mouthful of fizz in her mouth, before pouring Franky one. "Was ok, the usual." Della worked as a store manager at a fashion boutique and while she enjoyed her job, Franky often got bored of listening to her stories of superficial customers and how 'cute' the latest trends were. She longed for intellectual conversation. Della passed her girlfriend of almost 11 months the glass, and Franky downed the whole thing in once go.

"Woah, slow it Franks, you sure your ok? You look a bit wiped out."

"I'm fine Della, really, just fucking starving. Let's eat."

Franky dished up their dinner; salmon en croute, steamed mixed vegetables and sweet potato and chilli mash. Although Franky no longer wanted to pursue a career in cookery, she loved cooking, especially for other people. As she sat down to eat, Della told her more about her day, about the new staff members they had recently hired and whilst Franky was only half listening, she mumbled in agreement to whatever she said. It wasn't Della's fault, Franky's heart was just elsewhere today. She pushed the food around her plate like a child, her appetite diminished.

"Franks, what's wrong? I know there's something up!"

"it's nothing Della, ok?" Franky replied, annoyed she was pushing her. Franky wasn't a big talker when it came to problems and issues, and that was not about to change.

"Stop saying nothing, I know when there's something wrong!"

"I fucking said leave it!" Franky said, agitated. "I don't want to talk about it, not now, not ever. Drop it."

"That's always your problem though Franky, isn't it?" Della snapped. "Never want to talk about anything deep or personal. We've been together a year soon and I still feel like I know nothing about you. You've never even told me you love me before!"

"Drop. It. I. Said." Franky got off her chair and walked over to Della. "I think you should go. I'm sorry, but today is not a good time. I'll call ya."

Della looked up at her, upset and confused. "No Franky, fuck you. I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what the fuck is wrong."

"Fine!" Franky yelled. "Fucking stay here then! Do whatever the fuck you want. I'll go."

She grabbed her keys, her phone and her bag and slammed door behind her in a rage. She started walking and had no idea where she was walking to. Fuck you Bridget, she thought. Get out of my head, stop invading every area of my brain and tormenting me. Franky walked for about half an hour, including the time she spent at the shops buying a packet of cigarettes. She wasn't a smoker, but she lit up anyhow, welcoming the head rush as she took the first drag of one. She eventually passed a bar and decided to go in. It was fairly quiet, a mellow r&b tune playing softly in the background. She sat at the end of the bar alone, pouring rum down her throat.

"Who broke your heart?" A good looking dark-haired male said, pulling his bar stool up beside her.

"Fuck off, i'm not interested," Franky said, signalling the girl behind the bar for another rum on the rocks. "I'm gay, sling your hook."

"Amd i'm about as queer as they come," the man said. "I'm Anton."

"Franky," she replied. "Still didn't say you could sit here." She smiled at him, non-verbally giving him permission to stay.

"How many of those have you downed?" Anton asked her. He was sipping on some spirit mixed with cranberry. "I've been stood up, by the way, I don't tend to frequent bars alone!"

"I'm not keeping tabs," Franky replied. She had sunk 5 straight rums by now, and as someone who was not a big drinker, she felt a little drunk already. She ordered another.

"Slow down, honey," Anton said. "Tell me what's happened."

Franky groaned. "Where do I start?" To her surprise she found herself opening up to this kind stranger.

"Start right at the beginning."

So she did, and Anton listened. "I was an inmate at Wentworth Prison," she began. "I was doing 5 years for assault. I was an angry, lost, un-trusting person. I did what I had to do to survive in there. I fucked women, I beat them, I manipulated, you name it. Then I met Bridget." She sipped her drink as she continued. "She was beautiful, strong, intelligent, and she believed in me. She was the first person I had ever trusted in my life and she got me to open up to her. Only problem was that I was an inmate, she was the prison psyc."

She paused and finished her drink. "So forbidden love and all that?" Anton asked.

"If you can call it that. I fell for her, hard. We didn't even get physical, not even a kiss. It was way more than that, she managed to open me up and face my fears. But I fell in love and she told me she loved me too. Then rumors started flying around about the 2 of us and she quit her job. She said it would fuck up my parole and she couldn't live with that. She told me she'd find me on the outside but I told her to pretty much go fuck herself. She gave me hope and she dashed it back in my fucking face. I hated her for that. And then I run into her a few days ago after 3 years and she's reopened all those wounds I tried so hard to patch up."

"But if they were really patched up then they wouldn't reopen, would they? You never got over her."

Franky laughed. "I'm drunk," she announced. "And no, I never got over her. You know, I still think about her everyday, and I want it to work. But I don't see how. She fucked me up." Another rum slid down her throat, burning it.

"Everything happens for a reason," Anton said. "If you were meant to be together, you will find a way. It's inevitable."

Tears came to Franky's eyes and she wiped them quickly. "I'm getting out of here. Thanks for listening mate, the guy who stood you up is a fucker." She wobbled on her feet, too much alcohol in her system and made for the front door. She took her phone out of her pocket, struggling to see the screen at first, and hit 'dial' on the number she chose. Please pick up, she willed.


	6. Chapter 6

Are you alone? Do you need someone?  
Is it too late to talk? Did I wait too long?  
Thousand words don't change a thing  
Is it only three? Three words that you're missing?

Where did you go? Couldn't see, I was too busy  
Could've just said no, where would you go? I think I know

We're back to playing the crying game

The Crying Game - Nicki Minaj

Bridget had nodded off when her phone woke her up. She looked at the time on the bedside draws - 00.52. She reached over, yawning, and picked her phone up. Franky's number flashed up on the display.

"Hello?" Bridget answered, her voice thick with sleep.

"Gidget," came the reply. It was soft, almost soothing if the circumstances were different.

"I'm here, Franky, are you ok?"

"You know, every day I thought about you and how you were, every fucking day!" Her words were slurred, excessive alcohol to thank for that. "I hated you so much, but I still thought about you."

Bridget's eyes filled with tears and she made no effort to stop them trickling down her face. She recognised the sound of a drunk person, and knew why Franky was intoxicated. Franky, her amazing, vivacious, beautiful Franky, was filled with pain and she could hear it in her voice. The alcohol combined with the hurt made for a deadly mix of emotions.

"Where are you?" Bridget asked with concern.

"Like you care,' came the reply.

"Where the fuck are you Franky?"

"I don't know," she said quietly. "I left my place, walked for about 40 minutes and ended up at this bar. It's called Quinn's."

Bridget knew exactly where that was, a five minute car ride away. "You stay there Franky, ok, i'm coming to get you."

She rung off and quickly changed out of her nightdress into a pair of jeans, a tee shirt and a cream jumper. She jumped into her grey Audi and sped off into the night, hoping Franky would still be there. And she was, looking a little dishevelled and puffing on a cigarette, sat on a bench outside the bar. Bridget stopped the car and wound down the window.

"Get in," she said, unlocking the passenger door. Franky got to her feet, stumbling slightly.

"Well, when I said I wanted to be picked up by a hot girl in a hot car, this is not what I had in mind!" She took one last of the cigarette and flicked it into the road, before getting into the car. "Fuck, i'm wasted!" She groaned.

"How much have you had to drink?" Bridget asked.

"Not fucking enough," Franky replied. Bridget stayed silent.

"Where's your place? I don't know where you live."

"Abercorn Street. The apartment complex. Let's just drive Gidge, i'm not in the mood to go home yet!" She turned the radio up loud, using it as a barrier to avoid any sort of confrontation; Bridget quietened it. "Always the sensible one, hey?"

"Your hammered, Franky, let me get you home and we'll speak tomorrow, ok?"

"I may be hammered but at least i'm not a fucking bitch!" She exclaimed. "What was it? Was I not good enough? Was I your sick little prison fantasy?"

"You know the answer to both of those," Bridget sighed. "We can't talk about this when your drunk, please."

"Whatever," Franky grumbled, leaning her head back and closing her eyes. "Whatever you want, Bridget. You know, today is 3 years since you fucked off and left me there. Not that you'd remember."

Of course I remember, how could I forget the sadness in your eyes as told you? Bridget thougt to herself. They drove in silence for about 5 minutes; Franky looked as though she may be asleep, but the single tear that escaped told Bridget otherwise. She desperately wanted to take her hand, but fought off the urge. Franky groaned, and opened her eyes.

"Pull over," she mumbled, covering her mouth. Bridget quickly stopped the car and Franky opened the passenger door and vomited onto the road.

"Jesus Franky," Bridget mumbled. She leant over and took hold of her dark brown hair, protecting it from the spewed up alcohol. She rubbed small circles onto Franky's back with her other hand. "It's ok, get it all out." Franky heaved again.

"Sorry," she muttered, wiping her face with the sleeve of her grey jumper. The front was stained with the splashes of vomit and Bridget leant over to the glove box and handed her some tissues.

"Better?" Bridget asked. She tucked a stray bit of Franky's hair behind her ears, instinctively.

"I feel shit," Franky murmured. She was trying to wipe the splatter off her jumper but was only making it worse.

"Take that jumper off, your covered in sick." Franky struggled with her jumper but managed to lift it over her head and threw it into the footwell by her feet. She shiverred, a small black vest was all she had on. Bridget wriggled out of her jumper. "Put this on," she instructed. She helped the drunk brunette lift the jumper over her arms; she was fairly intoxicated.

"It smells like you Gidge," Franky whispered. Bridget could not fight it anymore; Franky was like a lost child, and Bridget pictured her, alone, waiting at the window for her father. Behind the tattoos and the attitude, Franky was scared, and spent her whole life longing for love and acceptance. It hurt Bridget to see how this beautiful, intellegent, mesmerising woman could not see herself that way.

"Come here, Franky," she said. Franky leant her head against Bridget's shoulder and snuggled in close, breathing her in. Bridget kissed the top of her head and pulled her closer, tears dripping onto the mass of brown hair. This was a mess, she thought. Despite the lingering scent of vomit, Franky's hair smelt like vanilla.

"You know, I might be very drunk right now, but I know that I love you." Her voice was barely above a whisper; she had passed out and fallen asleep, her leg wedged up next to the handbrake. Bridget half laughed, half sobbed. "I love you too, beautiful."

They stayed like that for about 10 minutes, Bridget not wanting to let the sleeping girl go. She eventually gently pushed her back into the passenger seat, put her seatbelt on and drove her home. She woke her, helping her out of the car and prising the keys out of her bag to open the door to the apartment. Franky would have one hell of a hangover tomorrow. The lights were still on, and the kitchen was a mess, uneaten food and unwashed pots and pans, from the previous dinner. Della had left to go home, luckily. Franky kicked off her white Converse and pulled her jeans off in the hallway, stumbling and cursing as she did so; Bridget marvelled at her pert behind and long, lean legs, but followed her into the bedroom to put her to bed.

"Get in with me, Gidge," she willed, curling up on her side, stifling a yawn.

"Franky, I should go," Bridget warned. They needed to sort out their mess before jumping into bed with one another.

"No funny business, I promise. I just want ya to hold me. Please?"

Bridget sighed. "Move over then. And don't get sick on me!"

Frankie shuffled over to the other side of the bed. Bridget followed suit and moulded her body around Franky's, one arm around her side pulling her in close, the other stroking her hair.

"What's gonna happen with us?" Franky's voice was barely above a whisper, sleep taking over.

"I don't know," Bridget answered. So much water under the bridge, but the love was still there. That had to count for something.

Bridget must have dozed off, as she awoke a couple of hours later. Franky snoozed, deep in sleep, and Bridget maneuvered herself gently so she wouldn't wake her. She left a lingering kiss on her forehead and tiptoed out the room and into the kitchen. She scraped the uneaten food into the bin, and paced the crockery into the dishwasher. She then filled a glass with water, and rustled around in the kitchen until she found a draw containing half a packet of pain killers. She laid them out next to the water, picturing Franky's face filled with relief when the dreaded hangover kicked in. Spotting a notepad and a pen on the work surface, she ripped a page out and scrawled a note:

Take these and drink this - your hangover will thank you! I hope you're ok, call me when your ready and we will fix this, I promise. - G.

She left the apartment and drove home, Franky's voice still playing in her head: "I know that I love you". There was hope, and when she made it home, Bridget crashed into her bed and slept like a baby for the first time in a long while.


	7. Chapter 7

Yes, I do, I believe that one day I will be  
Where I was right there, right next to you  
And it's hard, the days just seem so dark  
The moon and the stars, are nothing without you

Your touch, your skin, where do I begin?  
No words can explain the way I'm missing you  
Deny this emptiness this hole that I'm inside  
These tears they tell their own story.

Told me not to cry when you were gone  
But the feeling's overwhelming, it's much too strong.

Lay You Down - Sam Smith

Franky awoke and was plagued with the feeling of an immense hangover. She rubbed her eyes, groaning. She was in bed wearing someone else's jumper, but no bottoms. Was she alone? She turned over and a familiar smell invaded her senses. Her bed smelt like Gidget. But why? Her memory was lapse right now, she needed coffee. But was Gidge here? Wincing at the pain in her head, she swung her legs out of bed and paced to the kitchen, desperate for a drink. The kitchen was clean, Della must have tidied up. Fuck, Della! She remembered now, they had had an argument and Franky had stormed out of her apartment, leaving there. Della must have tidied up before she left. Frankie spotted a glass of water on the counter, with some pain killers next to it. She quickly popped 2 pills into her mouth and downed the water. There was a note next to the glass:

Take these and drink this - your hangover will thank you! I hope you're ok, call me when your ready and we will fix this, I promise. - G.

Franky smiled. So she was here last night. And then she remembered. Franky had got horribly drunk, called Bridget, spewed out the side of her car and must have fallen asleep. She remembered Bridget kissing her head, and holding her in bed, so where was she now? She rummaged through her bag and pulled out her phone, but the battery was dead. Fuck. She dashed to the charger and plugged it in, and after a few seconds it powered up again. 4 missed calls and 6 messages from Della. Shit. But she would deal with that later. Nothing from Bridget though. She scrolled through her list of contacts and dialled Bridget. It rang, until she finally answered.

"How's the head this morning?" Bridget sounded fresh and awake, so Franky guessed she got plastered alone last night.

"I feel like shit," she said, her voice hoarse. Bridget found it sexy, but didn't say so.

"Yeah, well rum on the rocks tends to do that to people. Are you alright?"

"Mmm, fine," Franky replied. A wave of nausea crashed through her but she suppressed it. "Sorry for last night; I don't remember everything that happened but I don't drink often so i'm guessing I either made an arse of myself or was nasty to you." She prayed it wasn't the latter.

"It's ok," the blue-eyed blonde replied. "You were sick, a few times, then you crashed out in my car, but you weren't nasty. Not that I didn't deserve it, but no. Just drunk!"

"Gidget..." Franky said. "I'm sorry. Were you here last night? I woke up and the bed smelt like you. I'm wearing what i'm guessing is your jumper."

"Shh. It's ok. I took you home and tucked you in. I stayed with you until you fell asleep. I fell asleep myself but I decided to go. And you were sick down the front of your own top, so I washed it."

Franky laughed. "God, what a mess. Thank you, well you know, for coming to get me."

"It's ok, i'm glad I was there. Look, can we talk? Sometime soon? There's things I need to say, stuff to clear up..."

"Me too."

"Did you get my note?" Bridget asked.

Franky nodded, then realised she had to speak. "Yeah, I did."

"Well, I meant what I wrote. We'll fix this, ok?"

"Ok Gidge, I'll call ya later. I need to be sick and have a shower!"

Bridget hung up and smiled. Progress. It may have been small talk and a brief joke, but it was progress. She knew that her and Franky needed to iron things out, no matter what the outcome was going to be. She suddenly had a overwhelming feeling to call Vera, and give her a proper explanation as to why she quit her job. Bridget suspected that the now-governor of Wentworth must have had an inkling that she and Franky had something going on, but she felt like she had a duty to explain herself. She didn't know why now, but knew it would help the healing process if she was honest about everything.

She keyed in Vera's direct number, still saved in her phone from when she left. She hoped it was the same as before.

"Governor Bennet," Vera answered, an air of authority about her voice resonating down the phone.

"Vera its Bridget, Bridget Westfall." Vera was the closest thing Bridget had to a friend in the prison, and she noticed how she lived in the governor's shadow, desperate to prove herself as competent.

"Bridget?" Vera said, the surprise in her voice apparent. "Wow, Bridget, it's been years. How are you?"

"I'm well, thank you. How about yourself? How's things at Wentworth?"

"Oh you know, same as always. Nothing really changes in this place. I suppose you heard about Ferguson and all that happened? And Bea Smith too?"

Bridged had heard snippets on the news and online about Joan's incarceration and how she Bea came to her unfortunate end, but she chose not to get too fixated. Wentworth was her past now.

"Briefly, yes," Bridget said. "I was always fond of Bea, it's a shame." She paused, momentarily. "I actually wanted to speak to you about something."

"Bridget, if you want your old job back, you know what my answer will be!" Vera laughed. "The women miss you, they still speak about you, you were one of the good things in that place."

"Thanks Vera," Bridget said. "Can we meet sometime? It would be nice to see you, and i'd like to get some things off my chest."

"Well, I can take an extended lunch today if that suits you?" Vera began. It was Saturday; Bridget had no plans as of yet. Not until she heard from Franky. "Are you ok, Bridget?"

"Today is perfect Vera, and yes, i'm fine! Shall I meet you at that little deli round the corner from the prison? I don't remember it's name."

"Fargos? Yes, lets meet there at 1pm. I look forward to it."

Vera rang off. It was almost 11am now. Bridget decided to go for a run, to clear her head and focus on what exactly and how she would tell Vera. Today was the day she needed to get everything off her chest, to everyone.


	8. Chapter 8

I wonder sometimes, I wonder if I was wrong  
Tryin' do right by you got me here, now all I am is alone  
Cause her eyes, those hips, and that ass  
Don't compare at all, no  
And at best all they do is distract me but now  
Deep down when I face it  
All I want is you

All I Want is You - Miguel ft J. Cole

Bridget parked her Audi outside the small coffee shop where she was due to meet Vera. She hadn't seen her for 3 years and felt slightly nervous. She entered the deli, her black ankle boots clacking on the floor as she walked. Vera was there already, so Bridget made her way to the table and sat down. Too early for air kisses and hugs, she thought. Besides, Vera was not the emotional type anyway.

"Hey Vera," Bridget smiled at her. "So good to see you, you look well."

"Same to you Bridget, how are you?"

"I'm...good, Vera, i'm all good, thank you. I need to get a coffee, what are you drinking?"

The smaller brunette fumbled in her bag for her purse. "Just an espresso please."

Bridget signalled for Vera to put her purse away and returned moments later with 2 steaming hot coffees. They particiapted in small talk for a few minutes, before Vera got to it.

"So, to what do I owe this pleasure." Both women smiled at one another. The two had had their differences during their time at Wentworth, but came together after a mutual hatred for the former governer. Vera had a job to do and the psychologist understanded; she just wished Vera was tougher and stood up to Joan sooner.

"Well," Bridget began. "It's been 3 years since I left Wentworth and things from the past have been dredged up recently. I'm dealing with those issues, and I wanted to make sure that before I could move forward, I addressed everything that happened back in the prison. I feel as though I owe you an explanation. I wanted to tell you why I really left so suddenly."

"Did it have anything to do with Doyle?" Vera said, half asking, half stating.

"So everyone believed the rumors then." The serious smile that Bridget had perfected dances across her lips.

"Look Bridget, I may have been in Joan's shadow, but I'm not blind. There was something between you, I don't know to what extent, but it was definitely there."

Bridget looked down at her mug. "We fell in love." Vera remained silent. "Nothing physical happened between us, it was all emotional. I finally managed to crack Franky, she started to trust. I got to know her for the person she really was, and well, it just happened."

"You did the right thing, leaving when you did."

"I know, I had to do it. It was unprofessional of me, and I didn't want to ruin her chance at parole. I left that day and I hadn't seen her since."

Both women were quiet for a few seconds before Vera spoke.

"You know, I saw a different side to Franky after you left. That same day, she didn't attend her work detail. I went to her cell to escort her there and she had completely trashed the place. She was crying her eyes out on her bunk, and didn't even attempt to hide it. I knew then that the rumors were true. She even let me sit there with her while she cried, it was like she had lost all her fight."

Bridget tried to hold back the tears that were pooling in her eyes. She could picture Franky, vulnerable and broken, all because of her. But she had to do it.

"A few days after that she stuffed up her parole."

"I didn't know that!" Bridget exclaimed.

"Yes, well, Kim Chang started running her mouth, shouting obscenities at Franky and calling you every name under the sun and Franky lost it. She almost broke Chang's jaw and put her in medical for a couple of weeks."

Tears began to fall; Bridget quickly wiped them away, embarrassed. It sounded like she had ruined the brunette's life when she had been trying to save it.

"Sorry," she laughed. "I didn't know any of this. I hadn't seen Franky for the last few years and then last week we ran into each other out of the blue."

"I really though you two ended up together, I though that's why you wouldn't come back to the prison." Vera seemed concerned, if not interested in the unfolding story.

"No, I had no idea where she was and vice versa. It's been a tough couple of days and I wanted to see you today, to clear the air. I appreciate it Vera, Really."

"It's ok," Vera replied. "What's the deal with you two then?"

Bridget told her all the details of the last few days, and left nothing spare. She had been brutally honest and got her reasons for leaving off her chest now.

"It sounds like there's a lot that's been left unsaid with you two," she finally said after she listened to Bridget and metaphorically wiped away her tears. "Your a good woman, Bridget, if Franky makes you happy then you chase after her, give it all you've got and don't give up."

"I think that is exactly what I will do." Bridget smiled with her eyes, and knew what she was going to do. She messed up once and ruined 2 lives, she would not make the same mistake again.


	9. Chapter 9

Were speaking, soft  
See the pain in, your eyes  
I've been feelin', feelin' for you, my love  
And our bodies, are tied, our shadows, will dance  
I've been achin', achin' for you, my love

My Head is a Jungle - Wankelmut & Emma Louise

Franky must have dozed off as she awoke on here sofa, her neck aching from resting on a pillow too plump to be comfortable. Her atrocious headache had all but disappeared and she felt better than she had this morning. She reached for her phone; it read 15.09. There was another message from Della, and Franky felt a pang of guilt. None of this was her fault, but the poor girl was being dragged through shit thanks to Franky's mess.

Franky, if you don't want to speak I understand, but just let me know you are ok. Haven't heard from you, just call me. X

Franky typed out a message, not really knowing what to say. As cowardly as it was, she couldn't face speaking to her. She had to cut Della loose soon, no matter what happened with Bridget. While Franky liked Della, she wasn't in love with her and never would be. She wasn't sure how she could ever love another woman, not if it wasn't Bridget. Too much had happened between her and her Gidget, and even if they couldn't fix this mess they had made, Franky needed to know she tried.

Hey Della. I'm so sorry, I really am. I ended up going out and drinking too much, passing out when I got home. I'm ok, really, just trying to see where my head is at. This is NOTHING that you have done, it's all me. I'll call you tomorrow, I promise. Franks x

Now she needed to sort out the bigger issue. She tapped out a message to Bridget:

Gidge, i'm awake and feeling human. Can I see you later? We need to talk.

She contemplated an 'X' on the end, but left it out. She knew how she felt about Bridget but wasn't going to give anything away too easily. Things were much too complicated for hearts and flowers and an immediate reunion, as comforting as that thought was. Bridget must have had her phone in her hand, as her reply came barely moments later.

Glad you're feeling better. Come over later if you want, about 8ish. 6 Ivory Avenue. See you then?

Franky smiled. Even her road name sounded good, everything about this woman was so desirable.

See ya then.

Franky had a few hours to kill. She would spend it deliberating what she would say, but first, a boiling hot shower to wash away last night's regret.

Bridget welcomed the boiling hot water on her skin as she stood under her shower. Showers were Bridget's safe place. Whenever she was anxious about something she stepped into her large, luxurious shower and spent time there, thinking. Franky was due in around an hour and Bridget had never been more apprehensive about anything. Tonight would make or break them, she had to make sure Franky understood everything. She rinsed the foam lather off her body and stepped out, towelling off and putting on a cream plush dressing gown before she would get dressed. She sat at her dresser and patted moisturiser onto her face. Her mind was whirring with thoughts, namely how to break past the walls Franky built even higher than they were before; that was because of her, she might as well have handed her the bricks and mortar.

She was interrupted by the doorbell. She wasn't expecting Franky for another hour and she couldn't remember placing an online order the last few days. She made her way downstairs and to the door. It was Franky. She looked better than she did last night, dressed in dark grey skinny jeans which accentuated her long, slender legs and a black, slightly cropped tee shirt just skimming the top of her belly button. Her neck and wrists were adorned with silver jewellery, and she had the shine back in her eyes.

"Looks like I came 5 minutes too late," she winked at Bridget as she saw her in the dressing gown, suspecting that nothing was underneath.

"I wasn't expecting you yet, but it's all good, come in." Bridget closed the door behind her.

"Sorry Gidge, I just couldn't sit at home any longer. Nice place, by the way."

"Thank you," Bridget replied. "You want a drink or anything?" She pointed towards the sofa and Franky sunk into it.

"Nah Gidge, I didn't come here for the small talk either. Get it out in the open."

Bridget swallowed. "What do you want to know, Franky?"

"Everything. How about you start with how you left me to rot?"

The blonde exhaled, pulling the ties of her gown tighter without even realising. "I didn't leave you to rot. I told you..."

"You did, Bridget. You left me there, alone."

"Franky. Do you understand what would have happened if I was reported and the case went to the board? Do you? You would have not made parole. All the recommendations I made on your behalf would have been shat on and it would have all been for nothing. Never mind me losing my job, I could live with that. But I could not live with ruining your chance at freedom!"

"Well, you did. I didn't even make parole, you know that? I bashed Kim Chang so bad she ended up in medical for more than 2 weeks and I took a little holiday in the slot! So it was all a waste I guess."

Bridget looked at her. "I know. I went to see Vera yesterday."

"Why are you sniffing around Vinegar Tits for?"

"I figured now was a good time to clear the air, with everyone. To move forward I needed to address every aspect of my past."

"Do you know how much it hurt to have you walk away from me? Do you?" Franky stood up from the sofa and backed away a little, the closeness too much for her to take right now. Her head was spinning and her heart ached.

"Yes," Bridget whispered. "Because it hurt me too. Damn, it near well killed me. And I'm sorry, i'm so, so sorry. I know I let you down. But at the time it was the right thing to do." Tears spilled from Bridget's eyes but her expression was still one of composure and control. She could not crumble now. Franky was fingering her collection of bracelets on her wrist, the feeling of them a small distraction she needed right now. "I thought about you, I wanted to see you so badly."

"I gave up Gidge," Franky said in a small voice. "I finally had something good in my life. My whole life, I was just passed from pillar to post, shat on by everyone, and then you come along. You made me almost like myself again, like I actually mattered. I had something to look forward to. Then you pulled the rug from under my feet and nothing seemed important anymore. I just didn't care. I did what I had to do to survive another 12 months behind bars and when I finally got my parole I literally ran out of those gates." Franky wiped her eyes before continuing. "I tried to find ya, I did. I tried to look you up, but I couldn't. So I tried to forget you. But I couldn't. I literally saw your face every time I closed my eyes and I hated you so much for having that control over me!"

She let out a small sob and turned to face the wall, silent cursing to herself. "I trusted you!" She yelled. "I trusted you and you took that away from me!" She began to cry, every moment of the last 3 painful years etched on her face. Bridget sat on the edge of the sofa, unable to speak. She rested her heavy head in her hand and the 2 of them cried for a moment, not knowing what to say. Bridget broke the silence first, getting up and slowly walking over to Franky.

"If I promised you, with everything I had, that I would never walk away, could you trust me again?"

Franky shrugged.

"What do you want, Franky, what can I do to make this better?"

"I want you," she said, in between a sob. Bridget gently took Franky's face in her hands, wiping the tears with her thumb.

"You've got me, baby, you've got me." She rested her forehead against the sobbing brunette and exhaled deeply. They stood like that for a few minutes, both of their eyes closed.

"Kiss me Gidge," Franky whispered. "Kiss me and don't stop. Just kiss me until it stops hurting."


	10. Chapter 10

Your love is bright as ever, even in the shadows  
Baby, kiss me  
Before they turn the lights out  
Your heart is glowing, and I'm crashing into you  
Baby, kiss me  
Before they turn the lights out, before they turn the lights out  
Baby, love me lights out

In the darkest night hour, I'll search through the crowd  
Your face is all that I see  
I'll give you everything  
Baby, love me lights out

XO - Beyonce

Bridget brushed her lips gently against Franky's, her touch as light as a feather. She felt like she was home, finally. She softly planted gentle kisses on them, before slowly pushing her tongue into Franky's mouth. Franky matched her rhythm as if it was the most natural, easiest thing in the world. The tears on their faces mingled until it was impossible to tell who was crying. Franky gently grabbed Bridget's neck, all while the blonde never took her hands off Franky's face.

"I love you, fucking hell I love you," Franky murmured into Bridget's mouth. She tasted divine.

"I love you too baby, I never stopped."

Franky moaned and stifled an escaping sob.

"Shh, it's ok," Bridget said as they finally pulled away.

"I need you, Gidget, fuck, I need you." She began to pull away the robe's tie but Bridget stopped her.

"Upstairs." She kissed Franky again, a deeper, lust-filled kiss, before taking her hand and leading her to her bedroom. They entered the tidy cream and beige room with the plush cream carpet beneath their toes. Bridget led Franky to the bed and gently pushed her down until she was sitting on the edge. She could feel the brunette's heart thumping underneath her leather jacket and tee shirt. Bridget kissed her forehead tenderly and began undressing her. First her jacket, then her top. She stared into those green eyes as she unclipped the dark blue bra, the longing building between her own legs. Next, she painfully slowly undid the button of Franky's jeans and teased them off, never breaking her gaze.

"You're stunning," she marvelled, years of wondering what her body looked like not disappointing her. "Lie back."

Franky did as she was told, and then Bridget undid her gown, allowing it to tumble to the floor. Franky inhaled sharply.

"Gidge, your so beautiful, come here."

The naked psychologist climbed on top of her lover and began to kiss her, slowly and with immense passion. They both moaned into each other, desperate for a release, but wanting this to last forever. Franky began to caress Bridget's left nipple and she groaned. She bought her mouth down onto one of Franky's breasts and teased her with the tip of her tongue, rubbing the other one with her thumb. Franky arched her back and moaned, while Bridget placed wet kisses trailing down her body, stopping before reaching the top of her underwear. She teased Franky, running her fingers across the seam of her knickers.

"Gidge," she moaned. "I meant it, I love you."

"I know, I love you too baby." She smiled softly, kissing her hipbones. She traced the outlines of her tattoos with the tip of her finger. "So much." She peeled her knickers off and threw them across the room, her tongue poking out at Franky as she did. Her mouth continued its trail downwards, reaching Franky's warm, wet spot. She teased her, briefly, with the tip of her tongue

"Fuck," she cried out, her hands clutching the headboard tightly. Bridget reached up and caressed Franky's breasts as she continued to please her; she had never been so turned on before and the brunette's pleasure intensified this. She felt Franky shudder and knew she was close to her climax; Bridget intensified the pressure with her tongue and opened her eyes to watch the beautiful woman unravel with pleasure. Franky cried out and grabbed Bridget's blonde locks, forcing her head to stay in the perfect position. She came, hard, pleasure and happiness seeping from every pore in her body. Bridget left a small kiss on her stomach and shuffled back up, kissing Franky gently. She saw the tears pool in Franky's eyes.

"Hey, wasn't that bad was it?!"

Franky laughed. "I'm sorry. I've, well i've never made love before. To someone I love."

"Come here you," Bridget said. She took her in her arms and kissed her forehead. They stayed like that for a while, Bridget drawing small circles on Franky's back tenderly.

"Whatever happens now, just know that I love ya, ok?" Franky spoke out.

"And I love you too Franky. Always have, always will. Now, stop being a big sap, that's my job!"


	11. Chapter 11

Lately you've been quiet  
Is there something on your mind, baby?  
The suspense is killing me  
So much that it's driving me crazy  
The three words in your head  
Drift ahead like they're gonna come save me  
Oh, lately you've been quiet  
Is there something on your mind, baby?

Say Something - Karen Harding

Bridget and Franky spent the rest of the evening in bed, exploring each others bodies, laughing and crying and making up for lost time. Franky didn't want to burst the bubble but she knew she had to bring up Della sometime. After all, technically, she had been unfaithful. But it felt so natural, so right with Bridget. They fit, they understood each other and no matter what happened, the love was always there. Franky was never one for promises and hopeful endings, but she was pretty certain she could love this woman forever.

"I'm hungry," the blonde announced.

"Mmmm, me too," Franky replied, licking her lips before kissing Bridget. "Even though i've had plenty to eat tonight!"

Bridget laughed, and Franky joined in. So normal, so happy.

"I'll order a take-away. What do you fancy?"

"Apart from you? Anything Gidget, pizza?"

"Pizza it is," the blonde agreed. "What even is the time, anyway?"

Franky reached down from the bed onto the floor where her leather jacket was tossed. She took out her phone, ignoring the 4 missed calls. Her stomach churned slightly with guilt, but she pushed it aside, promising to deal with it tomorrow. "Almost 11.30. Hey Gidge, come closer for a second will ya?" Franky opened the camera app on the phone and switched it to front-facing mode.

"Oh come on baby, look at the state of my hair!" Bridget argued.

"You look beautiful. And anyway, I want to be able to look back on tonight and be happy, no matter what happens with us." She beamed a big, happy smile into the camera with Bridget next to her, laughing. Next, she planted a smacker of a kiss on the blonde woman's mouth and snapped that too. "Perfect," she said.

"You know, I love this. So easy, so happy. I want us to be together, not waste another moment."

"And I want that too Gidget. Can we start over?" Franky tucked a tousled blonde lock behind her lover's ear and waited for her response.

"Yes, yes, a million times yes!" Bridget smiled. "There's no getting rid of me now!" Franky grinned and grabbed Bridget, pulling her body on top of hers and squeezing her behind with job. Bridget shrieked and laughed, and gave into the pleasure Franky was already inflicting on her body. Just as Franky was getting ready to give Bridget another orgasm, Bridget stopped her.

"I wanted to ask you something," she began.

"Yeah, what?" Franky panted.

"Well, if i rememberer correctly, it's a certain someones's birthday next weekend. I thought, well, you don't have to if its too much too soon, but I thought we could go away, to the beach, spend some time alone and just do what lovers do."

"I don't celebrate my birthday Gidge," Franky said, crossing her arms and looking up at the ceiling. Bridget sighed, knowing this was another issue from Franky's past she would have to address. She had crossed her arms over her chest, a subconcious effort to keep herself from whatever harm she thought was coming. "Never have done, never will."

"And why is that?" Bridget gently prised. She suspected it was to do with her tough childhood, the lack of love from her mother and her father's abandonment.

"Take a wild guess! My mother wasn't exactly the birthday party type, lets face it. More of a fucking let down than a cake and balloons kinda woman. I don't want to celebrate, let's leave it ok?"

"Ok baby, I understand. How about we just use the weekend to get away and get lost in each other. I'd like that." The psychologist ran her fingers through the tattood beauty's hair several times.

Franky was silent for a moment. "Ok, ok. We can do that. But no birthday shit, ok?'

Bridget nodded in agreement and kissed her nose. "Will you to stay tonight?"

"Do you want me to?"

"Yes, I would," Bridget smiled.

"Well then, it's settled." She pulled her woman in for a long kiss, loving, not lustful. She couldn't wait to wake up with Bridget in her arms. It was all she had wanted for so long. "Gidge, i'm sorry to burst the bubble, but i'm gonna have to go and end things with Della tomorrow morning. It's not her fault."

"I know baby, its ok, I understand." She cupped Franky's face tenderly. "As long as you come back to me."

"I'm coming back to you forever."

"Quite the soppy one, aren't you!" Bridget laughed, and Franky hit her with a pillow.

"Yeah, well, that's me deep down I guess! Are you going to order a take away or am I gonna fucking starve to death?!"


	12. Chapter 12

Deep down you know it's best for yourself but you  
Hate the thought of her being with someone else  
But you know that it's over  
You know that it was through  
Let it burn, let it burn  
Gotta let it burn

Burn - Usher

Franky was rehearsing in her head over and over as to what she was going to say to Della. She had treated her badly, shut her out, and she didn't deserve any of it. The short drive from her apartment to Della's had been almost agonising, but Franky had decided to just tell her the truth. It would burn her, sure, but she didn't deserve a lie. Plus, Franky, Bridget and Della all lived within half an hour of each other and the chances of seeing one another one day was almost inevitable. Franky parked her small silver Polo at the side of the road and took a deep breath. Now or never. She rapped on the front door.

"So your alive then?" Della said sarcastically.

"I'm sorry I've been so shit Dell," Franky said. "It's all my fault, nothing to do with you."

"Spare me the 'sorry' bullshit Franky, tell me the truth. What the fuck is going on? Is there someone else?"

Franky couldn't look at her, so she stayed silent instead.

"I fucking knew it!" Della yelled, a devious smile plastered on her lips. "I knew you were fucking someone else!"

"It's not like that!" Franky cried.

"Yeah, well what is it then, hey? Was it your little prison bitch you saw the other week? Is she filling your knickers now?"

"Can I explain?" Franky asked. She felt awful but annoyed too that Della had called Bridget a bitch.

"Be my guest."

Franky took a deep breath and began. "The woman I saw at the bar that time, Bridget. We had, well, it wasn't even a relationship. I don't know what it was. But we had feelings for each other. A long time ago. That day, it was the first time we had seen each other in 3 years and it threw us both off."

"So you lied. You said she was just an old friend."

"She was a friend," Franky argued. "She was a good friend. But then things got messy and we went out seperate ways."

"Were you in love with her?" Della stared at her hard, fire blazing in her dark brown eyes.

Franky nodded, and Della laughed. "The whole time we were together, you were in love with someone else. It all makes sense now. Fuck! So what happened, did she get released and you stayed behind?"

"She was the prison psychologist."

"Fucking hell Franky, it just gets better and better! So what now, you had your big reunion and now your gonna live happily ever after? Why did she break your heart? Something happened if you didn't see each other for 3 years."

"She left the prison," Franky said, finally, for the first time, accepting what happened and why Bridget did it. "We fell in love, and she was compromising her position and my parole. So she left. And I hated her for it."

"But now everything is all rosy and you've worked things out, into the sunset and all that bullshit?"

"Della, I didn't do this to hurt you, please believe me." She walked up to the hurt woman and reached for her hand. "You are incredible, gorgeous, a heart of gold. It was just the wrong time for us. I can't lie to you, and you don't deserve it."

A tear left Franky's eye, and Della's followed suit. She began to cry, accepting that her and Franky were over. How could she possibly compete? Nothing came close to real love, and she saw in Franky's eyes that she loved this woman.

"I hope she makes you happy," Della said, wiping her eyes. "But when she walks away from you, again, please don't come running back to me, I don't want to know."

"I'm so sorry Dell, really." She squeezed her hand, before leaving the apartment. Getting into the car, Franky ran her fingers through her dark hair and cursed. She felt like the biggest jerk in the world, but she couldn't stay with a woman she didn't love while the one she would die for still wanted her. Della's words still resonated in her mind:

"But when she walks away from you, again, please don't come running back to me."

It made Franky feel uneasy. She loved Bridget, and Bridget loved her but in the back of her mind she still had a tiny nagging feeling that Bridget might leave again. She needed to see her, to know that she was in this for the long haul. She grabbed her mobile and called Bridget, ignoring the fact it was illegal to drive and talk.

"I need to see you," she said, not even giving Bridget a chance to greet her properly. "Can I come over?"

She made the drive across town until she pulled into the front drive of the detatched house. She had an overhwelming desire to hold her woman in her arms and never let go. Bridget came to the door, and Franky almost melted she looked so beautiful. It wasn't because she looked any different though; Franky looked at her and saw her future in her eyes and it had never looked brighter. She pulled Bridget close and embraced her tightly.

"You ok? How did it go with her?" Bridget couldn't bring herself to say Della's name. Not yet, it was still too raw for her to process; she hated to admit she was jealous of the woman who had Franky all to herself for the past 11 months.

"She's upset, but she'll get over me. I could never give her what she wanted." Bridget hugged her tighter. "What's the end game, Gidge? Is it safe for me to see my future with you? Honestly?"

Bridget stepped back slightly and took Franky's hands in hers. "Ride or die, baby," she said, laughing softly. "Forever."


	13. Chapter 13

Well I won't give up on us, even if the skies get rough

I'm giving you all my love, I'm still looking up

And when you're needing your space, to do some navigating

I'll be here patiently waiting, to see what you find

'Cause even the stars they burn, some even fall to the earth

We've got a lot to learn

God knows we're worth it

No, I won't give up

I Won't Give Up - Jason Mraz

Franky awoke, feeling at peace for the first time in a long time. She stretched her limbs accross the plush double bed and smiled, the feeling of waking up in her beautiful partner's bed absolute bliss. Today was her 33rd birthday. 33 years old. She wasn't proud of a lot of the happenings in her life, but right now she had never felt better. She had the woman she loved, a job she adored and the feeling, for once in her life, that things might just be ok. She turned over, but the bed was empty. Bridget was probobly showering, or plodding about the house looking for something, as she usually did. She took the opportunity to snuggle back down under the duvet for 5 more minutes, at least until Bridget either dragged her out, or joined her for a little while...

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you," Bridget pattered through the door into her bedroom, singing with the biggest smile on her face, holding a birthday cake, fresh cream and fruit adorning it. Franky sat up and laughed, enjoying seeing Bridget more excited about her birthday than she was. "Happy birthday dear Franky, happy birthday to you!"

Bridget crouched down in front of her, careful not to upset the cake. "Make a wish baby," she smiled.

"Hmmm, I wonder, can it include you naked in the bed in about 30 seconds?" Franky closed her eyes; instead she wished to be beside this wonderful woman forever.

"No ones ever given me a cake before," Franky mused, appretiative of the small guesture. Bridget dipped her finger conspicuously into the cream and dabbed it on Franky's nose. "Hey!" She took the cake from Bridget and placed it carefully on the bedside table. "Thank you Gidge, it's the nicest cake i've ever had."

Bridget kissed the tip of her nose, her tongue emerging to lick the cream off of it. "I'm glad you like it, baby. I was thinking, we should get ready and then get going soon, I want to explore the coast with you for as long as I can!"

Bridget stayed true to her word and organised a special weekend for them both. It was more for Franky, for her birthday (even though Franky demanded minimal fuss, if any), but to also show her that she was serious. She wanted to take the green eyed girl to her favourite restaurents, share date nights and explore their city together, as any regular couple would.

"Sounds good," Franky began. "I need to stop off at mine on our way though. I left my bikini and my phone charger behind like an idiot."

"Well you can always borrow mine?"

"Nah, my ass is bigger than yours Gidge!" She playfully slapped Bridget's taut behind appretiativly. She also had a small surprise for Bridget, a brand new burgundy (Bridget's favourite colour) underwear set which she hoped she would tear off her at somepoint during the weekend, so she needed to pick that up too.

"Ok, well, we should get going soon-ish then." the ever punctual blonde said. "Would you like your present first?"

Franky grinned and pulled Bridget back into bed, pulling the covers over their heads. "If my present involves a beautiful woman making love to me then I want it now!" She grabbed Bridget's face and kissed her hard, tasting strawberries and cream, a clear giveaway that she had sampled the cake without her. Franky tried to stifle a giggle at the thought.

"What?" Bridget asked, almost breathless. She pouted at Franky, her lips swollen from kisses.

"Nothing Gidge, i'm just happy, thats all!"

Bridget ran her tongue across her lover's lips, making the birthday girl shiver. Her lips found their way to Franky's neck and she licked and sucked her soft spot, right under her ear; it drove Franky wild. She held on tightly to her pleasure giver as she gave into the waves of pure bliss. Bridget could do things with her tongue that Franky didn't think was possible. The blonde navigated her way down Franky's toned body, a trail of 33 sensual kisses leading to the spot.

"Fuck Gidge," Franky moaned.

"I haven't even started yet baby!" And with that, she teased Franky's wet core, the process both glorious and agonising for her.

"Gidge, I wanna come on your fingers, while you kiss me."

Bridget shimmy'd her way up the bed before looking Franky square in the face and stuck 2 fingers in her mouth, licking them teasingly. She entered her partner, slowly, and kissed her hard on the mouth. Franky moaned into her and reached for Bridget's breasts, caressing them roughly as she neared her peak.

"Your close, let it go," the blonde woman said, a hint of dominance in her husky voice; Franky unravelled before her eyes and gave into the pleasure, moaning into Bridget as she did.

"Happy birthday baby," Bridget whispered, as Franky came down from the high.

"Mmmm," a satiated Franky replied, edging herself closer to the other woman. The two lay intertwined for a few moments, Franky's laboured breathing slowly becoming more normalised.

"Now I can give you your real present!" Bridget unwrapped herself from Franky's grasp and rolled over in the bed, opening the small bedside table draw. She pulled out a small box, wrapped in glossy red paper and a large black bow, Franky's favourite colour.

"I told you I didn't want anything," the brunette pouted, but secretly thrilled.

"Quit your whinging you big baby!" Bridget joked, placing the small box on Franky's stomach as she lay in the bed. "Its not much, but I thought of you as soon as I saw it."

Franky picked it up and gently peeled away the sticky tape, not wanting to rip the paper. The box had definitely fallen victim to Bridget's perfect wrapping skills, every edge even and taped together with painful precision. Under the paper was a small black box, a little bigger than a credit card. Franky opened it; a delicate silver necklace lay in the box sporting an infinity charm, everything Bridget thought represented her parner and their life together.

"You know, apparently, if you open up that symbol you get a circle, and circle's are said to be perfect, they last forever. That's why I thought of you when I saw it. Come here, let's see how it looks on you."

Bridget took the necklace from Franky's hand and fastened it around her neck, sealing it with a soft, lingering kiss on the back of her neck.

"Gidget, it's perfect," Franky smiled, her fingertips running over the necklace on her neck. Infinity meant beyond forever, she thought, and right now, that's exactly how she saw her life with the blue-eyed beauty who saved her. "It's the nicest thing anyone's ever got me, I love it. I love you."

"And I love you." Bridget wrapped her arms around the younger woman's neck and pulled her in for an embrace, peppering her forehead with soft kisses. Moments like this were all the had dreamed of in the last 3 years and she almost pinched herself to make sure this was real.

"Thank you," Franky said, lying back down and pulling Bridget down with her, holding her close. "It's honestly been the best birthday yet, and it deffo beats the time Boomer thought it was funny to give me birthday beats on my last birthday inside!" Bridget howled with laughter, the image of the small brunnette running away from the larger woman as she rained down 'birthday beats' on her. "I miss Booms."

"I know baby, she misses you too, i'm sure of it." She squeezed Franky's hand tenderly. "Tell me what you want to do this weekend. Anything at all."

Franky smiled. She had always dreamed of walking hand in hand with this wonderful woman on the beach, larking around and watching the sunset into the ocean. "All I wanna do is have a picnic on the beach. Wine, crappy sandwiches covered in sand and cocktail sausages. Then I wanna watch the sunset, hold ya close to me, then give you an orgasm on the beach!"

"C'mon Gidge!" Franky called up the stairs, growing impatient. Bridget had misplaced her house keys and was turning the house upside down trying to find them. Franky wanted to get going; they still had to stop off at her apartment to pick up the few belongings she had forgotton and she wanted to get the weekend started. Initially she had reservations about this weekend, but was now really looking forward to it.

"Coming, coming," Bridget called back. "Bloody keys fell behind the dresser, god knows how they got here! Ready?"

"About an hour ago!" Bridget rolled her eyes and smacked Franky's pert behind. They jumped into Bridget's Audi and made the 10 minute drive to Franky's.

"Stay here Gidge," she said, unbuckling her belt. "I'll only be a few minutes!" She leant over and plantes a kiss on her partner's lips, then poking her tongue out and licking her, leaving Bridget both laughing and scrunching up her face.

"Vile creature!" She teased.

Both women were laughing; Franky didn't stop to look as she climbed out the car and threw her middle finger up, giggling, at Bridget. She stepped out, the smile still on her face and failed to spot the red car coming straight towards her.

"NO!" Bridget screamed, her voice blood-curling. "NO!"


	14. Chapter 14

'Cause all of the stars are fading away,

Just try not to worry, You'll see them some day

Take what you need, And be on your way

And stop crying your heart out.

Stop Crying Your Heart Out - Oasis

Bridget heard an awful shrilling scream, and didn't realise it was coming from her own mouth until the driver of the car stepped out, shaking. Franky lay sprawled across the tarmac, unconcious and battered. She didn't see the car when she stepped out and it had ploughed straight into her, knocking her into the air and back down onto the road. Her bare arms were brazen with cuts and grazes and her left arm was bent in such a way that it it could only be badly broken. Bridget, still screaming "no no no no!" had literally dived down to where the unconcious brunette lay and fought off the urge to scoop her into her arms. She didn't know the extent of her injuries and moving her could do more damage than good. The man who had hit Franky walked over slowly, shaking his head.

"Oh god, oh god, she just stepped out! I couldn't stop in time! It was an accident!"

"Call an ambulance!" Bridget yelled, the panic in her voice bubbling over. "Quick! She's unconcious!"

The driver of the car proceeded to dial for help, his hands shaking nonetheless. It was not his fault really, but he had jus run down another person and she wasn't moving. Bridget sat on the floor next to Franky, wiping the blood away from he large scrape on her forehead, preventing a trickle down onto her closed eyes.

"Franky, baby, i'm here," she said, choking on sobs from the bottom of the throat. "It's going to be ok, the ambulance is on it's way and we're going to fix you up. I won't leave you alone, I promise."

It seemed like an eternity but within minutes the ambulance arrived, its sirens heard before it was visible. 2 paramedicas jumped out and immediately began tending to the injured woman lying in the street.

"Can you tell me what happened?" One of the paramedics asked both Bridget and the driver of the car. The other one went back into the ambulance and emerged with a stretcher and a medical bag. Bridget was silent, the shock preventing her from being able to speak.

"She just stepped out," the shaking driver replied. "She literally stepped out it the road and it was too late for me to stop! It was an accident! Oh fuck, is she going to be ok?"

"We'll take her into the emergency department and the team there will run all the tests to see where she is injured." Both paramedics moved her gently but swiftly onto the strecher, then into the ambulance.

"Careful with her!" Bridget cried, finally finding her voice. "She's hurt!" She knew the medics knew their job, but she didn't want Franky to feel any more pain.

"It's ok miss, she's safe now. What's her name? Are you riding in the ambulance with us?"

Bridget nodded. "She's my partner, her name is Francesca Doyle, Franky. Is she going to be ok?" She sniffed back worried tears and wiped her eyes, exhaling a large breath she didn't even know she was holding.

"We will do everything we can for her, but we need to take her in right now."

The police had also turned up to question the driver, standard procedure in any traffic accident; they also wanted to speak to Bridget but there was no way she would leave Franky's side, not while she didn't know if she would even pull through. She clambered into the back of the ambulance sheepishly, following one of the paramedics and sat in the spare seat, feeling utterly helpless. Franky was having all her obs tested, her reflexes and was having a cannula inserted, ready for the fluids to drain into her arm. She also had a neck brace fitted, "for precaution" the paramedic reassured her. But Bridget was not a stupid woman and knowledge of the medical world told her that Franky was still in critical condition. The drive to the hospital took all but 5 minutes but it passed by agonisingly slowly. The still brunette was transported out with haste and wheeled quickly to resus, Bridget struggling to keep up with the pace. She was stopped by a sympathetic nurse, who couldn't allow her into the emergency resuscitation area.

"I'm sorry madam," she informed her. "The doctors are going to take her for an x-ray and CT scan to see what's going on. Once they know, they will let you know."

"Please!" Bridget pleaded, the agony in her voice apparent. "She'll want me there when she wakes up. Please!"

"I'm sorry," the nurse continued. "I know you want to be with her but she needs these examinations as soon as possible, i'll take you to the waiting room and then once she's been assessed you can see her, alright?"

Franky had already been whisked off with haste for scans and various tests; Bridget sat in the waiting area, the wait excruciating. This morning had been perfect; both women excited at the weekend to come, Franky celebrating her birthday. Happy fucking birthday, Bridget thought with a sour taste in her mouth. Her beautiful girl's birthday, and instead of celebrating with champagne and orgasms, she was lying unconcious in the emergency department. Bridget stared at the tatty posters on the walls of the small room - substance misuse helpline details; carers support group; local taxi numbers. She stood up and began to pace, better than sitting down and doing nothing. After what felt like forever, the door opened and a doctor came to greet her. He was tall and fairly well built, looking more like an aftershave model than a doctor, Bridget thought.

"Ms Westfall, i'm Byron Anderson, the emergency consultant on call." He extended his hand and Bridget shook it feebly. "I understand you are Francesca's partner."

"Franky," Bridget corrected quietly. "She hates Francesca."

"Franky. I apologise. We've run x-rays and scans on Franky to assess her injuries. I'm afraid she is a little more battered and bruised that we would like her to be. Her left arm is broken in 2 places and her shoulder was dislocated, and her left leg has several small breaks from the knee downwards. What we are most concerned about is that her spleen has ruptured and there is some internal bleeding, and she will need immediate surgery."

Bridget's hand covered her mouth and she tried hard to keep the tears at bay which were pooling in her eyes.

"I know it's hard to take in, but the quicker we get her to theatre the best chance she has."

Bridget nodded in agreement. "Can I see her? Before she's operated on?"

"We are prepping her for theatre now, so you can come down quickly as we are moving fast." He began to walk and Bridget followed him, matching his fast pace. "As next of kin I would need you to sign consent forms on Franky's behalf for the surgery, unless you think she would object. You can see her briefly before she's taken into theatre."

Bridget followed the doctor to the emergency department and when she saw Franky she began to weep. She was attached to various machines and a ventilator, and looked so small in the bed, covered in tubes and wires. Dr Anderson gently touched her arm sympathetically.

"I know it's tough to see a loved one like that, but the machines are helping her with the best chance of a healthy recovery."

"Look after her, please," Bridget pleaded, her watery eyes begging him. "She's all I've got."

"I will do my very best." He handed her a hospital-issue bag with Franky's belongings - her black leather jeans and red tee, plus her jewellery, including Bridget's birthday gift to her. "You can go over and see her, we're due to take her down in a moment."

Bridget made her way over to her love; she wanted to scoop her up and run away with her. Instead, she took her right hand, the one which was not attached to a badly broken arm, and held onto it, hoping Franky could somehow sense she was there.

"Stay stong my beautiful girl," she said, smiling down at her as the tears cascaded down her cheeks. They dripped onto Franky. "I'll be here when you wake up, just hang in there and fight. I love you so much." She peppered soft kisses on her forehead and gently pushed her dark hair away from her face, before allowing the medics to wheel her into theatre. Bridget was not a believer of God, but she found herself praying to someone, anyone, to protect Franky, to give them a shot at a life together. It was as though the odds were firmly stacked against them, someone really did not want them to be together. Just fight, she said mentally. Fight hard my girl.


	15. Chapter 15

You dont have to turn the page  
I read the story, it ends with you and me.  
You dont have to walk away, the story will change

Baby please dont turn the page.  
You dont have to turn the page  
I read the story  
It ends with you and me.

Turn the page - Bobby V

Bridget must have fallen into a slumber as when she awoke she was met by the face of a kind looking handsome stranger gently nudging her arm. It took her a couple of seconds to familiarise herself with the relatives waiting room and the hard plastic chair beneath her, and she quickly realised the strange man was the doctor who operated on Franky.

"How is she?" Bridget asked, feeling utterly worn out, emotionally. In the last few weeks she had cried tousands of painful tears and it seemed as though the agony was far from over.

"She's stable," Dr Anderson began. "We've removed the spleen which stopped the internal bleeding and her broken bones have been plastered. She's going to be in some pain when she wakes up but we're administering intravenous analgesia to help her feel a little more comfortable."

"So she's going to be ok?"

The doctor smiled. "It appears so, yes. She's a tough cookie that one."

"Thank God," Bridget cried, laughing and crying at the same time. "Can I see her?"

"She's in recovery at the moment, but you can sit with her. The anasthetic is wearing off so she will wake up slowly, but she is likely to feel nauseaus and be a little confused. She'll probably want to sleep too, so don't be too alarmed if she's not as alert as you are used to her being."

Bridget nodded in agreement, getting up to follow the doctor as he led her to see her sleeping beauty. He led her through to the surgical recovery ward and drew back the curtain to Franky's bed. She looked so peaceful, Bridget thought, her dark hair splayed accross the pillow as she slumbered, unconciousness still invading her body. Her face was partly covered by an oxygen masy, though thankfully not a breathing tube like before her surgery. Bridget went over to Franky's bedside and kissed her forehead, breathing in every molecule of her. She stood there for a few seconds, watching her and stroking her hair. She then sat back in the padded chair and waited, longing for the brunette to open her green eyes.

Bridget had always been a deep sleeper, succumbing to sleep usually fairly quickly. She snoozed instead, however, on the uncomfortable high-backed chair, her body on high alert. She must have drifted off lightly for the second time, as she was awakened by soft moaning, almost like an animal in pain.

"It's ok baby, i'm here." Bridget got to her feet and gently pulled the oxygen mask off from Franky's face. Franky's eyes opened slowly, then shut again. She groaned, and tried to move, her body still undeniably weak. Bridget went to alert a nurse of her partner's return to the world and a nurse came in a checked her observations and released a small dose of morphine into her system.

"This should help her," the nurse said to Bridget. "Give me shout if you need anything."

Franky murmured again and opened her eyes, the green orbs darting around to try and locate the familiar voice she heard.

"Gidge," she croaked.

"I'm here, you're ok." Bridget took her right hand and squeezed it gently. "Welcome back, you gave me quite a fright."

"What happened?" Her croaky voice was barely above a whisper.

"You were hit by a car, crossing the road as you ran to your apartment. It was an accident, you stepped out and didn't see and the car didn't have time to stop. You've broken your arm and leg, a couple of cracked ribs and they removed your spleen but your going to be alright."

"My birthday..." Franky remembered. "We didn't go to the beach."

"Never mind, let's focus on getting you well, hey? Then we'll go to the beach."

Franky closed her eyes again and screwed up her face, clearly in discomfort. "I feel sick," she murmured, the side effects of the anasthetic kicking in. Bridget quickly grabbed the first make-shift sick bag she could find, a small wastebin, and supported Franky's neck enough so she could lift her head and spew. The cracked ribs and recent surgery caused her immense pain and she began to cry. It broke Bridget's heart to see her in so much pain and she looked like a small child, totally dependant on people to help her at this point. Bridget smoothed the hair away from Franky's wet eyes and dabbed at her mouth with a tissue. She held a cup of water up to her lips and instructed her to take small sips, to help the burn in her throat if anything.

"Everything hurts," the struggling brunette cried.

"I know darling," Bridget said, trying to sooth her. "Do you want me to do anything?"

Franky grunted, indicating she didn't want to be touched. She fell back into a morphine-induced snooze, the pain killer kicking in a providing a little relief.

It was dark by the time Franky awoke, still in pain but feeling a little more alert. She managed to turn her neck and saw Bridget leafing through a glossy magazine.

"Hey Gidget," Franky said, her throat less sore than before. Bridget placed the magazine on the chair she was sitting on after she stood up and went to kiss her lady on the forehead.

"Hey yourself. How you feeling baby?"

"Sore," Franky remarked. "But more awake now. Have you been here the whole time?""

The blonde nodded.

"You should go and get some sleep," Franky ordered.

"And leave you here? No way." Bridget kissed Franky's palm, inhaling her scent. "Ah, i'm so glad you're ok."

"I'm fine Gidget, gonna take a bit more than a car to finish me off." She managed a small giggle before wincing in pain.

"I know baby, but I was scared. The thought of losing you all over again was awful. It's almost as if someone is cursing us!"

"You're stuck with me Gidge, ride or die remember!"

They both laughed softly, Bridget resting her forehead on Franky's. Franky lifted her chin slightly, ignoring the pain in her chest area and let her lips find Bridget's, the soft feeling of home instantly melting the pain away. She murmured appreciatively, her heart surging with love.

"Never leave me, Franky," Bridget whispered. "I love you so much, I thought I was going to lose you."

Franky closed her eyes and gave herself 1 more second to think before the words left her mouth in a barely audible whisper. It was now or never.

"Marry me, Bridget."


	16. Chapter 16

You give me a feeling that I never felt before  
And I deserve it, I know I deserve it  
Its becoming something that's impossible to ignore  
It is what we make it  
I was wondering maybe, could I make you my baby  
If we do the unthinkable would it make us look crazy  
Or would it be so beautiful either way I'm sayin'  
If you ask me I'm ready

Unthinkable - Alicia Keys

19 Months Later

It was almost sunset on St Kilda's beach, the air warm and breezy. Franky looked towards the ocean, a sense of calm filling her. She brushed the hair out of her face and looked over at her best friend, grinning wildly. Boomer Jenkins smiled back, giving the smaller brunette a thumbs up. The alter constructed at the beach was simple, but classic, and chairs were laid out either side of a make-shift aisle, a sandy walkway leading to Franky herself. This was it, the day she never imagined. Franky Doyle, soon to be Franky Westfall Doyle, was getting married. She smiled to herself as she mentally recalled her feeble proposal - lying in a hospital bed following major surgery, but knowing exactly what she wanted for the rest of her life. Bridget initially thought it was the morphine talking, but Franky explained that too many years had been wasted and she knew who she wanted as her partner in crime (not in the literal sense). As soon as she was well enough, she raided her savings and bought Bridget the biggest, sparkling ring, well aware that Bridget would tell her to not be so stupid and save her money for something more important. She did, as Franky predicted, but the bold woman replied that nothing was more important and her woman deserved the prettiest of rings. The only condition Franky had was that she wanted to wait until Boomer was released from prison, to be her 'best man'. She was released 4 months ago and the wedding had been a huge thing for the larger than life former inmate to focus on.

The wedding was not a huge affair; the couple wanted something small and intimate with their closest friends. Neither of them had any real family, just Franky's father and little sister; their friends had filled that void. Franky felt her heart swell at the people in front of her who had come to share the most important day of her life. Her father, sister Tess and step-mother Sandra, darling Boomer, Doreen and Nash with not so little Josh who was now almost 5, plus their 2 year old Sienna and wonderful Maxi with her partner James. Liz was unfortunately still incarcerated, but due to be up for parole in the next 12 months. Will Jackson, Vera Bennett and 'Smiles' were also present, friendships forged with Franky's former officers thanks to Bridget's return to Wentworth in the last 9 months. Franky's closest work friends were also there, as well as a few of Bridget's friends. Around 20 guests in total, but 20 people who really mattered to them. Franky smoothed down her leather skater skirt, a rare occasion that her lean legs were on show, and adjusted the short sleeve white blouse tucked into it. She felt nervous and she didn't even know why.

"Franky, chill out!" Boomer said, taking her 'best man' duties very seriously. "Is there anything you want me to do?"

"Nah," Franky replied. "Just wanna see my wife to be!"

And right on cue, she saw Bridget at the top of the aisle. She looked utterly radiant, a white, strapless maxi dress clinging to her slender frame and her blonde hair was loose, a white calla lily tucked behind one ear. She clutched a small bunch of the same flowers in her hand. Franky couldn't help the beaming smile on her face or the happy tears from falling as Bridget walked towards her. She was barefoot on the sand and Franky thought she was the most beautiful thing in the world.

"You're so beautiful," Franky said smiling, her eyes still watery. Bridget beamed back at her, the sparkle in her eyes apparent.

"And you look absolutely stunning, you're perfect."

They stood hand in hand as the ceremony began and soon enough it was almost time to seal the deal. Bridget said her vows first, beautiful words which resonated in Franky's heart. Her eyes never left the beautiful brunette as she spoke.

"I, Bridget Westfall, take you, Franky Doyle, to be no other than yourself. Loving and trusting what I know of you, with respect to your integrity, and with faith in your love for me, through our years together and in all that life may bring us, I accept you as my partner in life." Her voice wobbled towards the end, breaking out in happy tears and she looked Franky in her green eyes throughout.

"Franky, if you would repeat after me," the minister conducting the ceremony began.

"Hang on," Franky started.

"Franky?" Boomer quickly said.

"Don't worry, i'm not running away!" She laughed. "I just, well I wanted to say something myself to Gidget, from the heart, if that's ok?"

The minister nodded. Franky turned back to Bridget and took both her hands in hers.

"Gidge," she began. "Nothing I could ever say in words would be enough to describe how I feel and my gratitude towards you." Bridget smiled, and Franky continued. "From the day I first met you in Wentworth, when I met you properly, you captivated me. You went out on a limb and stood up to the Freak and convinced Ms Bennett to reinstate my parole. No one had ever done something good for me before, and I fell for you fast. After you left, I was a mess, and I really was. Even after my release I was missing you and I hated you, but even then I loved you. And I found you again, by some miracle. You taught me to trust, you showed me a normal life, and you taught me what love is. Real love, not that soppy shit you see in the movies, but love when I'm at my worst and you are still there to pick me up and make me carry on. For that I can never repay you, but i'm hoping that one day you will see that you really are the love of my life."

She paused to swallow the lump in her throat, her green eyes welling up as she stared at her beautiful woman. "So, yes, Gidget, I will be by your side through sickness and health, i'll be patient when you want to give up, and I will promise that no matter what happens, I will love you for the rest of my life. I accept you as my partner in life!"

The women looked at each other and laughed through happy tears, oblivious to the crowd in front of them. They were in a bubble, a world which just existed with the 2 of them. There was not a single dry eye amongst their guests, everyone emotional at Franky's heartfelt vows.

The minister stepped forward and looked at the happy couple, smiling at them. "As a couple committed to one another for the rest of your lives, supported and loved by your friends and family here, and hand in hand and heart to heart with one another, go forth together and live each day to the fullest."

Franky grabbed her wife by the back of the neck and pulled her in for their first kiss as married partners, smiling into her as they embraced. Bridget took the brunette's face in her hands, her touch feather-like. "Here's to the rest of our lives baby!" She gushed, as the crowd cheered and applauded.

It had been a roller coaster of a ride, but Bridget and Franky had finally found their way together. They were home, and they had fixed the pieces of their hearts.

The End.


End file.
